A/N: Sorry, busy end of the week, that's why the chapter is a little late. Enjoy!
Chapter 7: Reunion
Unfortunately, the news were not what Lexa had hoped. Anya had been delayed. She was expected tonight or tomorrow with the prisoners, but had not sent ahead more information on how the attack went or how many prisoners she had taken.
Still, Lexa reflected, the delay likely meant a large number of prisoners. Clarke did not know how to ride before, and mentioned that none of her people did. If there were more prisoners than escorting warriors, Anya might have elected to make the journey on foot or piled all the prisoners in a horse-pulled cart. Hence the slight delay.
For now, though, she was cautious to keep these deductions to herself, just in case she was wrong. Anya, in her stubbornness, might also be delayed because she decided to start interrogating the Skaikru despite the Commander's orders to bring them to Polis immediately.
For Lexa, this would be the worst case scenario. Clarke would most likely be furious – which would make the negotiations all the more complicated – and Lexa would have to punish her former mentor for disregarding orders. Anya had always gotten away with small disobediences, because none were publicly done and Lexa was loath to punish the woman who had helped shape her into who she was today. But in this instance, she would have no choice. Worse, if the torture had been extensive or resulted in the death of even one prisoner, Clarke would have the right to demand Anya's death in reparation, according to their laws. Not that Lexa planned to point this out, but she had no idea how disobediences were punished in the Ark, and dared not ask directly as she expected the blonde to then enquire about her own people's customs.
Titus was waiting for them at the foot of the Tower, much to Lexa's annoyance. She knew her old teacher meant well, but after six years as the Commander, she was growing frustrated with his frequent interference. She schooled her face into a mask as she dismounted and greeted him. He replied distractedly, his eyes going back and forth between Clarke and herself. Lexa resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Though he had been the one to teach her to carefully control her expressions, he was sometimes far too easy to read.
''Titus, may I introduce you to my guest: the Healing Nymph. She saved my life a few days ago, as I am sure you have heard.'' She spoke in a loud voice, wanting the crowd to hear her confirmation of the blonde's identity as well. She had no idea how rumors could travel faster than horses, but tales of the Nymph's deeds had clearly reached Polis, for the crowd started cheering and Titus scowled.
She would have to tell him the whole story before he relented. But he was a firm believer in the Spirit, and she knew he would see Clarke's appearance as the blessing it must be.
Clarke, she noticed, was growing uncomfortable with the attention from the crowd and almost glaring at her. She had gathered, by all the comments of the blonde, that she disapproved of the title bestowed upon her by the Trikru and all the attention that accompanied it.
It was refreshing to see someone that did not bask in the fame, but also strange. Lexa herself enjoyed the attentions of her people, because she knew she had earned it through her actions and that it pleased them to thank her. Clarke had been adamant in her refusal of the gifts the villagers had repeatedly offered, even when those were presented as trade for her healing. She would have to ask her more about it some time.
For now though, she took pity on the young woman and gave instructions to prepare the empty room that was on the same floor as hers. Better to keep her healer close for now. Besides, that was exactly what the room was intended – Heda's healer. Unfortunately, there weren't even enough healers for all the villages, so Lexa – as her last few predecessors – had elected to go without one. There were few risk of her getting hurt in the Tower, anyway.
A few hours later, Lexa was massaging her temples while she looked down at the streets. They were less crowded, people returning to their homes and preparing the evening meal. There was still light, but night was falling earlier every day.
Her discussion with Titus had been as expected – redundant and tiring – but her Flame keeper supported her reasonings were Clarke was concerned. The one point on which they disagreed was Clarke's people. Titus was of a mind to kill Anya's prisoners before Clarke could see them, and claim that they all refused to surrender. That way, he argued, the Nymph would have no more ties to a people that could stir her away from Heda and the Spirit. Lexa, having seen glimpses of the leader that Clarke would have been if that boy had not tried to kill her, refused vehemently. She was certain that Clarke would find out such treachery sooner or later, and she doubted she would forgive it. Moreover, it did not solve the problem of Clarke's loyalty to the Ark. If the Healing Nymph absolutely had to go, it was probably better for it to happen sooner rather than later.
However, she could understand that Titus was uneasy with the current situation. They had no real information from Anya to plan on, and everything could go wrong very quickly. At least with Titus' extreme solution, the road would be clearly cut.
That was often Titus problem. His solutions were usually too short-term, whereas the Flame encouraged her to plan for the long-term. It did not matter if she died before she could bring her plans to fruition – the Flame would remain and see it through.
As she stared at the streets, she noticed the column of riders approaching from the gates. The dirty blond hair of the first rider was easy to recognize.
Anya.
Quickly, Lexa studied the rest of the party. There was a cart, relatively small – it could not house more than four people, or six at the most, those sky people were very thin after all. The silhouettes were still too far for her to see if some horses carried two riders instead of one. Counting the number of horses, Lexa estimated the number of prisoners between four and fifteen.
What would be a good number for Clarke?
She was startled when the blonde she was currently thinking about strode inside her throne room. She was still dressed in her own dirty clothes – Lexa would really have to talk her into accepting more clothes – but she had rinsed off the dirt from the road.
''What are you doing here?'' She asked her. She had not sent anyone to summon her. She had planned to talk to Anya and assess the prisoners conditions first.
''The windows of the room I was shown to offer a good view of the city gates. Am I right to assume that this is your general?''
Lexa refused to answer her question and insisted. ''How did you convince the guards to let you in?''
Clarke looked sincerely confused. ''Er… I just told him that I was supposed to discuss the prisoners with you and your general Anya.''
Lexa turned back to the window to hide her rolling eyes. Of course. Even her warriors saw Clarke as a mystical figure that was allowed near the Commander without question. She should have anticipated that and ordered for the blonde to be detained until she personally summoned her.
Too late for that, now.
''Anya and your people will be here shortly.'' She said in her most official voice.
Before she could think of a reason to send the blonde away until she had explained the situation to Anya, Clarke sat down on the dais of her throne.
''Good. Don't worry about me, I'll just wait here.''
Something in her voice made Lexa turn to study her.
Gone was the carefree woman from their journey, or the girl who spoke passionately about love and healing. Sitting unceremoniously on the floor was an inexperimented but stubborn leader determined to do what was best for her people. Clarke sent her a knowing look, and made a show of stretching her legs.
She gritted her teeth. The blonde had anticipated her wish to see the general without her first, and had probably watched out for Anya as soon as she noticed the view from her window. Then, she had rushed to Lexa, and would most likely follow her if she decided to go meet her general outside. The brunette could not even send a messenger without Clarke knowing.
Worse, Clarke was smart but lacked first-hand experience in such matters. As years passed, Lexa had had many occasions to review her own decisions and actions with a more mature look. Though some of her actions in the first couple of years had yielded great results, she now realized how costly or risky – if not both – they had been. If she had to make the same decisions again today, she would probably choose differently. She had witnessed the same evolution in the ambassadors since the beginning of the Coalition. Such leaders often leaned towards extreme decisions – sometimes passively agreeing to anything regardless of whether or not it was doable, and sometimes stupidly refusing to compromise.
With her insolent barging into the throne room and blatant refusal to leave, Clarke was clearly of the stupidly stubborn category. Lexa would just have to think quickly. She had long learned that these needed to vent and that negociating was often pointless until they had calmed down. Or that a pre-emptive offer could greatly destabilize them. They usually expected to be disappointed by the proposed offer.
A guard entered the room to warn her that Anya was in the elevator and would be here soon. She dismissed him with a nod and sent him to fetch Titus and Gustus – in case she would need advice and to serve as witness of whatever would be decided. She went to sit on her throne, and addressed Clarke.
''You are my guest. You cannot sit on the floor in front of my advisor and general.''
''If you say so. But I doubt I am allowed to sit in those chairs.'' She remarked, pointing to the decorated seats of the ambassadors.
''This is not a matter to be discussed with the other clans for now. You may choose a seat, or remain standing by my side, as you prefer.'' She offered.
The blonde stood. ''I'll just stand, then. I feel too nervous to sit comfortably anyway.''
Lexa was about to comment on this last statement when the doors opened. Titus and Gustus strode in, taking their positions by her side and acknowledging Clarke with a sharp nod. Anya followed them in and bowed before her Heda.
''Heda. My second, Tris, and a few warriors are escorting the prisoners to you. They are injured, and we have to move them carefully.'' She explained.
''Injured?'' A cold voice immediately intervened.
Clarke. An angry looking Clarke.
''Is that how you treat prisoners when they surrender?'' She continued in a low growl, turning towards Lexa.
Before she could reply, Anya rose to her feet, hand on her sword. ''Who are you to disrespect Heda?'' She snarled.
Lexa sighed discretely. Negociations had not even begun yet, and the two were riling each other up. She knew Anya enough to see the subtle signs of frustration in her demeanour when she had announced that she only had a few wounded prisoners to present. The general was already feeling shame from failing her Heda, and now a stranger was condemning her actions.
Clarke jumped from the dais and walked until she was only a couple feet away from Anya. ''You harmed my people?'' She asked in a warning tone.
''You dare to threaten me?'' Anya growled back, unsheathing her sword and resting the point against Clarke's neck.
The blonde smirked evilly. ''Go ahead. Or try, at least.''
Lexa shot to her feet and barked at Anya to stand down before she could pierce Clarke's neck. She had no problem letting the two vent some frustration, but things were starting to go too far.
''Onya, you will show respect to my guest.'' She warned. ''I ordered you to bring me the prisoners directly, and not to harm them. I wished to handle the interrogations myself.''
She turned slightly. She had tolerated a lot of insolence from Clarke until now, hoping to have a pacated opponent when negociations began. But she would not allow the blonde to abuse this. ''Klark, you are my guest and I expect you to behave as such. Or is respect not taught to your people?''
Slowly, Anya lowered her sword, not taking her eyes off the blonde woman. Clarke only moved away when Lexa walked up to the duo. She would not continue this discussion shouting across the room while two blonde hot heads tried to tear each other apart.
Anya finally replied, her gaze still wary whenever she glanced at Clarke. ''We did not have to attack. My scouts reported an inner power struggle in the invaders camp, and I decided to use this opportunity to strike. But by the time my troops arrived, the Mountain men had captured them. We found those cans they use to send the red fog that makes warriors sleep.''
Lexa's brow furrowed and she felt Clarke tense beside her. ''How do you have prisoners, then?''
''The first one was captured several days before the intended attack. We questioned him to prepare our troops. I wanted to send him with the disease to weaken them, but he claimed that his people would shoot him as soon as they saw him. He was banished or he fled, I am not sure.''
Clarke growled again. ''You tortured him?''
Anya straightened proudly. ''It is how things are done in wars.'' She bit back.
''Enough!'' Lexa exclaimed. ''Anya, what about your other prisoners?''
Her general deflated almost imperceptibly, probably sensing her Commander's disappointment with the news. ''I only have one other. It is a girl, with a gunshot wound in the back. The Mountain men did not take her. I had my healers do what they could to keep her alive, but I do not think she will last more than a few days. You should interrogate her quickly, Heda.''
''Like hell you are!'' Clarke screamed in fury. ''Bring me to her!'' She demanded.
Almost in answer to her command, the doors of the room opened again and Tris strode in with a bounded boy, followed by two warriors who carried a stretcher.
Lexa quickly assessed the boy's condition. He was thin, like Clarke, obviously weary and still bore the marks of Anya's questioning. Thankfully, the boy must have cracked quickly – the worst she could see were torn nails.
She noticed Clarke's surprise when she saw him. Suddenly, she wondered why the boy had been afraid to go back to his camp. The Spirit would not make Anya stumble upon the boy who had tried to kill Clarke, right?
One further glance at the healer's face reassured her on that score. Surely she would be more angry if faced with someone who tried to kill her. Right now, she was simply and honestly surprised.
''Murphy?'' Clarke croaked.
The boy looked up from the ground and saw Clarke. Surprise etched on his features as well, but the sight seemed to bring him more comfort than fear.
''Princess? Is that you? Thought you were dead! Raven said you were!''
Princess?! Frantically, Lexa searched her memory for any hint Clarke might have let slipped about her status. She absently noticed Anya's head snap up at the title and Titus's shoulders sagging.
Clarke's father was dead, and she believed her mother was in danger, if not already dead. She had refused to say why she had been chosen for the mission on the ground. Was there some political struggle in the Ark? Was Clarke here both to assess the survivability of the ground and to be safely away from conspirators? She had claimed her people elected leaders, but what real guarantees did she have that the blonde had been truthful apart from her word?
She spoke up at the same time as the blonde.
''You are the princess of your people?''
''Who the hell is Raven?''
Clarke ignored her, focusing on the boy – Murphy – as he answered her by pointing to the girl on the stretcher.
''She said she was sent by your mother and that the others said you were dead. Bellamy shot her because he destroyed her radio, or something. She kept mumbling the whole way here.''
So it seemed Anya was not to blame for this girl's injuries. Good.
Clarke was already moving to the girl's side. Lexa watched as the blonde quickly assessed her injuries, and gently rolled her to inspect the gunshot wound. She extended her left hand towards the Commander without looking at her.
''Can you give me that dagger you are always playing with?'' She asked.
Anya immediately stepped forwards, her hand flying to her sword at the demanding tone. Lexa raised a hand to stop her before she could make the situation worse.
When her hand remained empty, Clarke turned just enough to send her a glare.
''I need to extract the bullet before I can heal her. Give me that fucking dagger!'' She yelled.
Lexa complied, and in hope to convey some explanation to Anya on the current situation commented.
''Show us what you are capable of, Nymph.''
Clarke grunted in reply, and started to carefully slice the girl's – Raven – skin to widen the healing wound. When she moaned in pain and trashed, Clarke glanced at the warriors holding the stretcher.
''Put the stretcher on the floor and hold her down. That wound is ugly enough as it is, I don't want her to go into shock.''
Lexa nodded in confirmation when the warriors looked at her, clearly unsure of who was this blonde girl who had screamed in the face of the Commander and got away with it.
Clarke kneeled next to the girl and resumed her task, slicing through the muscles with precise and quick movements that betrayed her experience. Clearly, she had not been lying when she claimed to have studied conventional medicine rather than rely solely on her gift. Soon, she discarded the dagger and used her fingers to fumble in the wound until she extracted the bullet.
Immediately, she pressed both hands against her patient's back. Raven had fallen unconscious at some time during the procedure, and all the warriors were staring at the scene with wide eyes.
After a long and tense minute, Clarke removed her hands, revealing healthy skin free of bruises or wound.
The blonde sighed and relaxed slightly. ''She is fine. She just needs rest, now. I feared nerve damage, but the bullet was not that deep, and your healers must have contained the inflamation enough.''
She rose to her feet. ''Your turn, Murphy.''
The boy was staring at his unconscious companion, mouth wide open. His jaw snapped shut when he heard Clarke address him.
''Er… What was that trick, Princess? You're not touching me until you explain!'' He stuttered, taking a half-step back.
Lexa contained a growl at the disrespect the boy demonstrated to his own probable leader, and saw Clarke roll her eyes at the weak protest. The blonde stepped forward and grabbed the boy's hands with a quick move.
''Long story short, I can heal you. There, new hands.'' She added as she released her hold on his now healed fingers. ''Happy?'' She drawled.
They were interrupted by Anya who was looking alternatively at Raven's back, Lexa and Clarke's bloody hands.
''Who are you?''
Clarke ignored her and turned towards Lexa.
''If you don't mind, I am taking those two to that room you gave me. Raven needs rest, and your general will not touch Murphy again until I am sure he will not be harmed. You can come to talk once you have decided what to do with my people.''
Without waiting for her response, she picked up the stretcher. ''Come on, Murphy, help me carry her.''
Lexa turned to the warriors that had carried the stretcher in. ''Escort them. And order for bath water and food to be delivered to her room.'' She ordered Tris.
As soon as the warriors left the room, Lexa walked back to her throne and fell into it.
''You have delivered me a very complicated situation, Anya.'' She stated.
Her general and Titus gazes were still trained to the door, as though they could somehow still see Clarke despite the thick panels of wood.
''Who is she, Lexa? You called her Nymph?'' Anya finally asked, all agressivity gone after the display of Clarke's ability.
''She saved my life a few days ago, when Azgeda assassins struck me with a poisoned knife. What you have seen is only one of her talents. I saw that woman pull a dagger out of her chest and the wound seal itself as she did.''
She paused. ''Unfortunately, it appears she is also someone important to those Sky people. She was separated from them a few weeks ago, and alone until she stumbled on the assassination attempt. She only agreed to come to Polis because I promised she would be reunited with those of her former companions that you took prisoners.''
Anya stared. ''You believe she was sent to you by the Spirit.''
''With such abilities, and appearing from the forest to save my life, how can she not be?'' Lexa argued.
''But she is Skaikru.'' Anya protested.
''For now.'' Titus said.
Lexa glared at him. ''If I welcomed Azgeda, I can welcome Skaikru.'' She declared, reminding him of their earlier argument.
She reached for her dagger, needing something to occupy her hands while she thought, and was startled to find the sheath empty. She remembered that Clarke had taken it to treat the brunette girl and located it on the floor, where she had abandoned it. Regretfully, she wrapped her hands together to give herself some countenance. She did not need to hear Titus comment on her nervous habits again.
''Tales of Clarke's powers have already spread. The people might lose faith in the Commander if she walks away now.'' She stated.
''She warned me that their home in the sky would soon crumble. More people from the Sky will arrive, sooner or later. I believe Clarke is a message from the Spirit. We should treat them as refugees and not invaders. It is Heda's duty to offer a haven for the people in need of one.''
''The clans will not approve.'' Anya cautioned. ''They burned a village without cause. They only speak Gonasleng. They are too much alike the Mountain men.''
''But you claim that the Mountain captured them. Clearly, they are not allies. This should moderate the Clans' anger.'' Lexa reasoned.
''What about the village they destroyed? We must have reparation. Just because they are refugees does not absolve them of our laws.''
''I will talk to Clarke and her companions. Unless I say otherwise, they are all to be treated as guests, and not prisoners.''
She rose. ''Anya, have rooms prepared for Raven and Murphy in the lower levels. They cannot remain on this floor.''